


To Reach An Accord

by Cameron_McKell



Series: Upon Further Review [9]
Category: Tron (Movies), Tron - All Media Types, Tron: Legacy (2010)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Implied Past Animal Mistreatment, M/M, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-19
Updated: 2013-09-19
Packaged: 2017-12-27 01:26:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/972705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cameron_McKell/pseuds/Cameron_McKell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tron and Marv learn to understand each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Reach An Accord

“Yes, I understand. No, that's fine; I can do it. I think his opinion of me has improved. Perhaps you could meet us there later? It's dependent on whether or not he attempts to abandon me there. Don't worry about it, Sam; it's harder to evade me than I think you realize. Well, _you've_ never managed it. That time doesn't count; I was _offline_ in another system. Regardless, you need to get back to work. I'm aware of that, yes. That's fine, as long as you don't mind losing. Statistical probability. Go back to work, Sam. Yes, I already have it here. _Yes_ , Sam; _goodbye_ , Sam. I love you, too.” Tron huffed out a brief laugh, then ended the call, and turned around.

 

Marvin sat next to the apartment's smaller side exit, staring at him; Tron had trouble with translating non-User facial expressions, but he labeled the dog's current look as 'expectant' with an acceptable margin for success.

 

Tron frowned slightly, then set his cellphone down, and began tracking down one of Sam's hooded, zipped jackets; he wondered, at times, if it was unusual that Sam had been enthusiastically willing to purchase him his own cellphone, though he used it infrequently, but was hesitant to acquire him User clothes of his own, even though he used them much more often, necessitating a rearrangement of scheduled maintenance practices like laundry. Perhaps there was some secondary tier of significance to him wearing Sam's clothes that he was as yet unaware of.

 

Archiving the calculation for later revisiting, he shrugged on a thin, dark blue 'hoodie' jacket, relocated his phone into one of the jacket's pockets, and picked up the brightly colored, woven tether he'd left coiled on top of the couch back, and approached Marvin.

 

Marvin stood at the sight of the tether, speaking in a series of rapid, somewhat high-pitched noises that Tron _still_ couldn't translate; he'd asked Sam on four separate occasions for the language upgrade for dog, but the User had just laughed at him each time. He'd even brought it up to Alan once, though he usually refrained from barraging his User with non-critical requests, but he'd just smiled at him, said “Oh, Tron...” in a way that implied he was missing an important piece of information, and resumed uploading the local news.

 

“I'm sorry, I still do not understand you,” he apologized, then knelt so he could attach the tether to Marvin's neck harness, which was specifically designed for this purpose, conveniently. In the event that Marvin could understand _him_ ,though, he continued speaking. “Sam sends his regret that he won't be able to accompany you on your 'walk' today, and has asked that I accompany you instead.”

 

With the tether attached, he stood back up, unwinding the coiled length of it, before wrapping the looped end around his hand. “I understand that you have previously expressed disinterest in my presence here, but I hope to be able to convince you of the beneficial nature of my existence. I would like to help you, Marvin, if that is acceptable?” He looked down at the dog, simultaneously nervous and hopeful; Marvin ranked high in importance in Sam's life, so to facilitate his own importance in Sam's life, he hoped for importance in Marvin's; it was simple math.

 

Marvin just looked at him for a moment, panting lightly, then formed up on Tron's right side, and looked between him and the door several times.

 

Tron smiled.

 

With a last glance around to make sure everything was secure, he opened the door and led them out.

 

* * *

 

It was late by the time Sam got in, so he cut the bike's engine and walked it inside.

 

He dropped his things off in a corner to take care of in the morning – and he was _definitely_ looking forward to the long weekend, especially considering he planned to spend most of it Grid-side, where two days became nearly _one_ _hundred_ – then grabbed himself a slice of cold, leftover pizza from the fridge, and began poking around for Marv and Tron.

 

He found the two of them upstairs – Tron must have carried Marv up and that was _huge;_ Marv tended to get really scared if strangers tried to pick him up, a rather alarming hint at what his life had been like before the shelter, and Sam couldn't help but glad that he apparently trusted Tron to hold him, now – on Sam's bed.

 

Tron was lying almost spread-eagle on the bed, face mashed almost violently into the pillow, bare down to his suit, circuits a dark, dim blue of full sleep mode; there had been a time where Sam expected Tron to sleep stiffly, or standing up, or any number of situations, that the fact that his sleeping habits looked like nothing so much as the perfect definition of ragdoll-physics was absolutely hilarious. Also adorable, but Sam refused to admit to that out loud.

 

Marv was curled up in the middle of Tron's chest, almost perfectly bracketed within his circuits; every now and then his ear would twitch a little, or he'd make a soft snuffling noise, then settle further onto the program's chest, seemingly boneless. His leash was still attached to his collar, and right off the bat Sam could see a streak of grass stain and a small twig stuck in the nylon.

 

Looks like they'd had fun.

 

Sam toed his shoes off, then sneakily saw to his nightly routine and crawled into bed, careful to jostle its two sleeping inhabitants as little as possible. He shifted closer, until he could splay one hand over the circuitry low on Tron's stomach; the contact roused the faintest of purrs from the program, but wasn't enough to wake him.

 

Smiling, Sam craned his neck forward so he could kiss the nearest visible bit of Tron's face – which turned out to be his ear – then settled in to sleep.


End file.
